All In The Family
by Magus732
Summary: When a Navy officer dies of a mysterious illness while staying with relatives in New Jersey, the agents of NCIS and the staff of Princton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital must team up and solve the case... before it's too late... Chapter 9 is up!
1. Day Off

All In The Family

By Magus732

_Washington, D.C..._

The bright, fluorescent lights on his office greeted an understandably foul-mood Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs. Director Shepard had dragged him into work on a day he chose to actually _use_ his paid vacation. As one can imagine, he wasn't very happy about it. As he angrily slammed his badge and gun down on his desk and sat in his chair, his subordinate agents looked up with surprise; he wasn't due back for three more days.

"Hey, Boss… have a nice fishing trip?" Anthony DiNozzo joked nervously, grimacing when he received a death glare from Gibbs.

"_No_, Dinozzo, I did not…" He answered through gritted teeth. Mossad Officer Ziva David, her eyebrow arched in curiosity, leaned forward in her desk chair.

"Is everything alright, Gibbs?" She asked coolly, trying not to make his mood any worse.

"No, Ziva… got pulled in to catch a killer when I should be out catching up on my sailboat's second coat of paint..." As the senior agent then turned his attention to Timothy McGee, who had an almost apologetic look on his face, he awaited to hear about why he was even there to start with. Logically, he'd assumed the Director had informed his team of their new case.

"Well, Boss, we... don't _have_ any cases yet; just catching up on paperwork." He offered hesitantly. Gibbs rolled his eyes. "_This is typical,_" he thought to himself. "_Leave it to Jen to call me in on my _one_, _voluntary _day off in years, and she doesn't even tell my team about it._"

"Agent Gibbs, you have a call coming through from the Director; line one." Cynthia, the Director's assistant/secretary, called down from the upper floor, leaning over the rail to make sure he heard. Gibbs nodded – as close to a "thank you" as she could expect – and sat back down at his desk, gingerly picking up the phone's handset.

"Jen, I hope you have a good reason my team doesn't know about-"

"Gibbs, pack your things; we've got a serious medical problem at a hospital in New Jersey. I'll brief you when you guys get here; Cynthia's got the address. Jethro... _hurry_." Jennifer Shepard, the Director of NCIS, curtly interrupted, immediately after which she hung up without saying another word. Gibbs slowly hung up, her instructions not fully sinking in; she'd never sounded so worried about a hospital before.

"Pack up, team; we're heading out..." He barked loudly, his team jumping up and following orders.

"Where to, Boss?" DiNozzo asked absently before looking up.

"New Jersey; Director wants us there, ASAP."

...


	2. Logical Thought

Doctor Gregory House, head of the Diagnostics Department at Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital, leaned back in his mesh-back office chair as Lisa Cuddy, Dean of Medicine, bored him to no end with details of his next case. As he enthralled himself with his yo-yo, Cuddy suddenly snapped his attention back.

"House! We have a dead lieutenant from the Navy – that's _our_ Navy – lying on a slab in the morgue. He arrived at the ER about six hours ago, presenting with dizziness, fatigue-"

"I know. I was here when you starting talking, remember?" He shot back without looking up. His "fellows", as his team of subordinate doctors was sometimes called, rolled their eyes.

"House, the guy shows up here with non-life threatening symptoms yet dies six hours later... that doesn't bother you?" Eric Forman, a neurosurgeon, quipped back in kind to House's remark as he leaned forward in the chair right in from of his desk. House cocked his head to one side in exaggerated thought then snapped it back to normal.

"Nope. _His_ problems are over, as are _mine_." He finally tossed the yo-yo onto a nearby shelf and sat up in his chair. "The reason he's dead is someone _else_'s problem. _Your_ problem-" He turns toward Dr. Cuddy. "-is that he died _here_." He got up and grabbed his cane as he headed toward the door, only to be stopped by Cuddy stepping in front of him.

"Oh, come on, House; I don't buy that crap for a second! You _know_ you want to find out how he died." She eyed him knowingly. As his team stared and waited for his answer to her challenge, he sighed and nodded curtly, not wanting to admit defeat.

"Fine. I'll look into it, possibly sometime between now and next July." He responded, grabbing the file from her hand. She scoffed but said nothing. Just as House was about to leave, Director Shepard swung the door open and walked in.

"So... this is where you've been hiding, Dr. Cuddy..." She said coolly, not sure what was going on. As if she wasn't standing right in front of him, House turned from Shepard to Cuddy.

"Who the hell is she?"

"_I_ am NCIS Director Jennifer Shepard. You can call me 'Ma'am' or 'Director'." She beat Cuddy to the punch, not at all intimidated by House and his over-six-foot frame.

"Well, _Director_... what's wrong? Don't have a M.E. in D.C.?" He joked rudely. Cuddy scoffed again, louder this time. Shepard gave him a patient look, as she would to a child.

"He's on his way, Dr. House, as are my best agents... seems the lieutenant died under suspicious circumstances..."

"Sure; if you ignore the fact that he died in a _hospital_, it makes perfect sense to call in the troops..." He retorted. Shepard narrowed her eyes dangerously.

"I decided to 'call in the troops' because he was perfectly healthy at his annual physical last week..." Cuddy suddenly cut in, turning to House with a frustrated look.

"Which you would know if you actually bothered to _read_ the file..." House looked at Cuddy, then at Shepard, then back at Cuddy. He gave them a strange look; they had their arms crossed in an eerily similar way.

"Are you two sisters, by any chance?"

"No..." They answered together, albeit unintentionally.

"Right... well, now that _that_'s settled, maybe we can get to work..."Christopher Taub, a former plastic surgeon, cut in. Robert Chase, a cardiologist and intensive care specialist on House's team, finally spoke up, his strong Australian accent thickly coating his speech.

"Why don't we just do an autopsy when your M.E. arrives, Director? That way, we know why he died... that'll make everyone happy, right?" Remy Hadley, often referred to as "13", her recruitment number from when she was hired, finally said something as well.

"_Or_, we could do the autopsy now and give you the report when we're done..." House looked over at them, both standing against the back wall of his office.

"Very clever, you two... way to ruin the moment with logical thought..." As he made his way back to his desk, Gibbs and his team stormed in.

"Director..." He acknowledged her with a nod. "What's going on? Thought we had a victim to look at."

"Well, from what Dr. Cuddy here has told me..." She indicated Cuddy with a pointed head bow/nod. "...our victim is dead, and they don't know why."

"Maybe he broke his neck hang gliding; says here he's an avid aviator, preferring aircraft of the unpowered variety..." DiNozzo said, while looked at the lieutenant's Navy record. McGee shook his head then looked at DiNozzo.

"Tony, if he just broke his neck, why would they bother calling us out here? They could tell us _that_ over the phone..."

"Oh, yeah..." DiNozzo responded absently. House rolled his eyes, growing ever more frustrated.

"Here's a thought; why don't we actually try investigating? That _is_ what you guys do, isn't it?" He addressed Gibbs' team as he looked up from his desk, throwing on his trademark suit jacket.

"Usually..." Ziva answered first, being the only one who could come up with a response.

"Great! Let's get started, shall we?" House made his way to the door, motioning for his team to follow. Gibbs did the same, quickly moving to catch up. This left only Dr. Cuddy and Director Shepard in House's office. They shared a look.

"Is he always like that?" She asked.

"I was going to ask you the same thing." She answered.

...

Author's note: The final two sentences were meant to be ambiguous, since they could easily be applied to either House or Gibbs and be said by Shepard or Cuddy.


	3. Nothing To Go On

As House hurriedly trod along, his cane tapping the tile floor with every other step, he couldn't help wondering why the Navy sent a whole team to investigate a clearly _former_ naval officer. Ironically, Gibbs was thinking the exact same thing. Suddenly, House swung around, brining him face to face with the grey-haired NCIS agent following close behind. For a moment, one which seemed to stretch on forever, the two men stared each other down, trying to gage one another's thoughts.

"So, any chance we can speed things up a little bit? You know, maybe just make this whole thing go away?"

"Only if you move faster." Gibbs replied, moving around him to keep walking.

"That's easy for you to say! You don't have a problem with walking!" House shouted back. He grimaced a little but continued behind Gibbs. Turning a corner, he found the senior agent staring down at DiNozzo. Exactly how and why he and Thirteen had face-planted onto the floor was unclear, but it was obvious that they didn't do it on purpose.

"Hey, boss… what's going on?" The field agent smiled innocently as he knelt next to the young woman, who was still trying to get her bearings back.

"Good question, DiNozzo." Gibbs replied, half annoyed and half amused.

"Thirteen, is there something I should know? I thought we had something special." House placed one hand over his chest dramatically and frowned, as if he was heartbroken. When Gibbs turned to stare at him, he stopped and shrugged.

"What can I say? I like my employees to be happy. Mazel tov."

"Thanks." DiNozzo responded questioningly.

"Yeah, wonderful. Can I get up now?" Thirteen finally managed to stand, only to take both her and DiNozzo to the floor again when she tripped over his feet. This time, he made an effort to catch her, landing on top of her rather roughly. Both sighing, they simply laid there, unwilling to try again with their bosses watching.

"Well, I'm sure Thirteen's flattered, but maybe you should save that until _after_ the first date." House joked flatly. Gibbs, moving toward them impatiently, grabbed DiNozzo's wrist and hauled him to his feet.

"DiNozzo, you better _hope_ that was an accident."

"Why's that, Gibbs?"

"Because if it wasn't, I'm gonna kick your ass."

"Oh, come on. Let the kids live a little." House smiled broadly. Gibbs turned toward him menacingly.

"If I have to, I'll kick _your_ ass, just to keep things moving."

"Don't let the cane and the limp fool you; I mastered jujitsu in my sleep last week." House boasted, quickly replanting his cane onto the floor to continue walking. After a few moments of what seemed like aimless wandering on House's part, they arrived in the morgue. Dr. Mallard, affectionately known to his colleagues as "Ducky", was standing over the dead lieutenant's body, in the middle of cutting him open with a circular saw. McGee was standing nearby, nervously typing something on his laptop. Taub was assisting Ducky as he performed the autopsy, mainly by received bits and pieces of the Lieutenant as they were cut off and/or yanked out.

"What have we got, Duck?"

"Well, Jethro, I…" Ducky hesitated slightly upon seeing Gibbs' entourage. Momentarily off-put, he continued. "I can't find anything in the Lieutenant's major organs that could indicate cause of death. I've got bloodwork and tissue samples headed to Abby now, but… Jethro, I've never seen anything like this before. The Lieutenant seems to have simply keeled over and died. There's no trauma, no signs of infection or any other ailment, for that matter. His medical records indicate that he was in perfect health, and so far, I haven't found anything wrong with this young man."

"You mean, other than the fact that he's dead." House joined in.

"Well, yes, but like I said, there doesn't seem to be a reason why. It's like he just stopped living."

"Any sign of needle marks; anything to indicate any kind of drug use?" Thirteen came alongside the body, staring down into the Lieutenant's open chest.

"Not so far, and according to his records, he hasn't had anything more serious than the occasional cavity in about 15 years. I can't make a determination until the lab results come in because… well, to put it bluntly, I have nothing to go on here. The Lieutenant's body is coldly silent."

"So, what do we do?" Taub asked cautiously.

"I've got something here, Boss." McGee chimed in excitedly.

"What is it, Tim?" Gibbs shortened the distance to look over McGee's shoulder.

"Well, Andrew Peterson _was_ a lieutenant, junior grade, with the US Navy, but…"

"What, McGee?"

"According to his service record, he's been dead since May of 1942."

"How is that possible?" DiNozzo asked incredulously.

"I don't know, Tony, but his fingerprints match and the only service record containing the victim's serial number says that he died when the _Lexington_ blew up and sank after the Battle of the Coral Sea."

"Well, either the Navy got his records mixed up with someone else, or…" Dinozzo began.

"This guy's been posing as a sailor." Gibbs rolled his eyes and sighed softly. Somehow, he'd known; it was going to be one of those days.


	4. Tension

Gibbs paced the room as McGee dug deeper into their mystery, periodically glancing at the clock. Having moved back to NCIS headquarters to use their vast resources to solve this mystery, they found themselves no closer to an answer than they were the day before. He knew that Director Sheppard was expecting an update soon, and she would not be happy to know that something weird was going on, aside from the dead sailor. "_Well, maybe _not_ a sailor after all_", he thought bitterly to himself. "_SECNAV will want someone's head if we screw _this_ up._"

He also knew that it was only a matter of time before another agency would either get involved or get in the way. Finally, McGee's computer beeped its "I've got something" tone, grabbing Gibbs' attention.

"McGee, what do you have?" The computer tech turned NCIS agent turned toward his boss, his expression equals parts apologetic and confused.

"Well, boss, I've been going over the Navy's records from the Battle of the Coral Sea, including the crew lists for all the ships involved…"

"And?"

"And our lieutenant was a gunnery officer, manning an anti-aircraft battery on the _Lexington_. Seems he was killed when the ship rolled on its side; his entire gun crew was thrown overboard as they tried to abandon ship, and they were crushed when the carrier capsized before sinking."

"Helluva way to go, McGee." Tony finally joined in, having been listening close by. "I imagine it's pretty painful to be flattened by 30,000 tons of steel. Kinda like being in an office building when it comes down on top of you."

"Well, it could've been worse, Tony. At least he wasn't standing on the flight deck when the ship exploded." McGee stated matter-of-factly.

"I am not so sure; the after action report says that the flight deck was 'peeled back like a sardine can'. He probably would have been thrown clear off the ship." Ziva poked her head around from behind the laptop screen, uncomfortably close to McGee's face. Rearing back a little, he started to continue.

"Maybe-"

"But he would've been sliced up by pieces of wood and steel from the deck and probably ended up head first in the water." Gibbs finally joined in as well. "Not a good way to get off the ship, Ziva."

"No." She conceded, after a brief pause. Finally seeing an opening, McGee continued.

"But here's what's really strange, Gibbs; according to surviving members of the neighboring gun crew, Lieutenant Peterson was _not_ among the bodies recovered after the battle was over. That means he either went down with the ship or was unrecognizable because of his injuries."

"So maybe he's not a sailor. So what? He's still dead and we still don't know why." Thirteen poked her head between Gibbs and Tony, who both turned to look at her. Foreman looked over toward the group tiredly. He and Chase were sitting at a table nearby, Chase's head buried in his arms on the table as if he was asleep.

"Thirteen, it's _their_ job to figure out who this guy is; it's _our_ job to figure out why he died." The atmosphere had taken a gloomy turn; every time a lead came up as to what was going on, it turned out to be a dead end.

"Maybe we're going about this the wrong way, then." She continued, trying to think of something, _anything_ that would help them.

"In what way?" McGee queried almost apologetically.

"Maybe we should focus on how he got here; trace his steps back to wherever he came from."

"That would be great, if we had a time machine and could go back to when he first got here." House finally spoke up. He sat alone at a table near the door, twirling his cane while he thought about everything.

"Well, it can't hurt to check security tapes, can it? See if he shows up on any of them." The brunette persisted.

"I'm sure they thought to do that before we got here." Taub chimed in, mindlessly staring out the window at the dark clouds that were rolling in.

"Never hurts to be thorough. Uh, what's your name again?" Gibbs stumbled a bit, eying Thirteen from her new position next to McGee.

"Dr. Hadley." She replied, seemingly uncomfortable giving out her real name to a stranger.

"Dr. Hadley, you and McGee look back through the tapes; see if we missed anything the first time."

"On it, boss." McGee grabbed his laptop and went to stand up, only to find Thirteen hovering over his shoulder. Nearly hitting his head on her chin, he half sat back down as he turned to look up at her.

"Um… do you mind if I…" He pointed to her, making a "back up" motion with his empty hand.

"Oh, sorry." She smiled slightly as she got out of the way, watching with interest as the technophile lifted his pack over his shoulder.

"Come on. We can use the main screen in MTAC." He smiled slightly as she nodded, perhaps not seeing the gleam in her eye as she smiled bigger. As the two walked out together, smiling a little at the sly smirk on the woman's face as they entered the elevator, Gibbs came over and grabbed the candy bar out of DiNozzo's hand, making him squeal softly in protest.

"Dinozzo, you and Ziva go back and dig into the files that McGee just went through. I want to be able to tell the Director that we didn't just spend 45 minutes screwin' around and didn't find _anything_." As both agents got up to leave, House sat up slightly.

"Taub, you and Kutner go with them. I'm not paying you to sit and watch from the sidelines when there's a game still going on. Gotta earn your keep; Thirteen's working her well-toned ass off helping Agent Nerd look at nothing." All four of them left together, leaving House, Gibbs, Foreman and Chase to sit and stare at each other uselessly.

"Maybe _we_ should do something too, House" Foreman suggested.

"C'mon. Let's go see if Abby's found anything." Gibbs ordered, not waiting for them to follow him. All but House followed him to the elevator, who took his sweet time joining them.

…

"Okay, so he's here in the ER at 0845. That's when we see him last before he dies." McGee found himself the only one talking; the past 30 minutes had been an exercise in getting a reaction out of a silent partner. Thirteen was practically bored to tears, wishing she hadn't suggested this in the first place. She sat in the first row of chairs in MTAC, watching McGee dart between the huge main screen and the computer he was using to bring up the footage. A feral grin slowly spread across her face; she eyed the nervous young man with the look a wild animal might give its prey before pouncing. She slowly stood up, swaying her hips as she innocently draped her arms over his shoulder, nearly startling him in the process.

"Agent McGee, maybe… maybe we should take a break. I think we've seen all there is to see up there." She smiled widely, her eyes aglow with a mysterious desire as Tim chuckled nervously.

"Well, maybe we have been going at it a little too hard…"

"I think we have, McGee…"

"Y-you can call me 'Tim'."

"Remy…"

"What?"

"It's my name… Remy…" Her half-lidded eyes revealed what the young agent thought he heard in her voice; lust. For whatever reason, she had taken to him, and she seemed almost irritated when he nervously pulled away to give himself some space.

"Well, R-Remy… I think maybe we should check back in with the others; let them know we haven't found anything." Thirteen took off her lab coat, revealing her sweat-soaked green top. McGee averted his eyes when he realized he could see her nipples perking up under her shirt.

"Why are you so nervous, Tim? I'm not doing anything to make you… uncomfortable, am I?" The young woman smiled knowingly, making him gulp a little as he struggled to find words.

"I am, aren't I? Well, let's just see what we can do about that, shall we?" She moved closer, growling under her breath when he kept his distance.

"Remy, I-I really think we should check in."

"Why? So they can interrupt us, Tim?"

"Inter- what?" She suddenly closed the gap, planting her lips over his as his eyes went wide. Pushing her away as she struggled to keep her mouth over his, he gasped for air.

"Dr. Hadley, what are you doing!?"

"In a moment… you." She lunged for his neck, biting down as he cried out in pain.

"Oww! What the…!?" He finally pulled her away, seeing blood trickle from her smiling lips. She kissed him again, a rough, feral kiss that left the taste of blood in his mouth as he once more wrenched himself free of her.

"What the hell is wrong with you!? Are you out of your mind!?" She chuckled lightly, swaying her hips as she sidled closer.

"You know you want this, Tim. Playing hard to get won't help this tension." She still seemed very calm and rational; although she now had a bloodied smile on her face, her voice was just the same as it always was.

"Okay, I'm calling for help; you're _clearly_ not thinking straight!" As the panicked young man started to dial security, his new friend slammed her hand down on the receiver, smiling at him as she roughly grabbed his neck.

"Now, Tim, we don't need anyone ruining this for us. I have you all to myself, and I'm _not_ sharing you with anybody." She slapped him across the face, a blow of such force that it drove Tim to his knees a few feet away. Wincing in pain, he gasped in panic as she put one hand under his chin and turned his head up to face her. She smiled bigger, kissing the air between them as he tried to get free from her surprisingly strong grasp.

"Tim, don't struggle. This won't hurt a bit." She went to kiss him again, only she never made it. Halfway down, she fainted, collapsing in a heap on the floor next to him and leaving a very shaken McGee to call for help as blood began to trickle out of her ears.


	5. Statement

"Way to go, McGee. Getting cozy in MTAC with that doctor while we're out here working our asses off. That's really professional!" Tony laughed sarcastically as McGee lowered his head in embarrassment. Obviously, he didn't see the "humor" in DiNozzo's assessment of what had happened.

"I think it's great; socially-challenged guy gets together with a hot, medically knowledgeable girl with plenty of practice in bed. Must've appealed to her 'I'll do pathetic' sense." House walked over to look down at the blood on the floor, sneering disgustedly as he realized he'd stepped in it.

"Guys, it wasn't like that. I mean, she bit my neck; I was bleeding all over the place! Why the hell would I enjoy that!?"

"To each his own, McKinky. Maybe you hide behind the boring, office drone persona so we don't see how much of a party animal you really are." Tony squealed a little as Gibbs slapped the back of his head.

"Knock it off, DiNozzo; woman's sick, McGee's hurt. There's nothing funny about what happened in here."

"So, we're just gonna assume that Thirteen attacked Agent McGee and tried to force herself on him?" Foreman chimed in.

"If that's really what happened, it can't be a coincidence; we see a dead body in the morgue and a day later, Thirteen runs wild and started bleeding from her ears." Kutner started browsing through some paperwork. "What were the dead Navy man's initial symptoms?"

"We don't know, since he came in only a few hours before he died. Could be she's just high on something." Taub stood over Kutner's shoulder,

"McGee, the medics are saying Dr. Hadley's awake. Since you've built up a rapport-" Gibbs smiled slightly as he spoke. "… why don't you go get her statement?"

"Boss, are you sure that's…?" As he saw the definitive look on the ex-Marine's face, he halted in midsentence.

"Getting her statement." He went to leave, only for Kutner to close in on him.

"I'll go with you; see if she can give us a list of her symptoms so we can try to connect the dots."

"Alright, Taub, Foreman, you and the other agents double check everything we think we know up 'til now; we obviously missed _something_ or this wouldn't have happened." As the room cleared out, Gibbs and House were left to stare alternately at each other and the blood-stained carpet.

"What're you thinking?" Gibbs asked quietly, unsure how to proceed now that they'd brought _something_ into NCIS headquarters.

"Not sure what to think. She was fine until she decided to take a chunk out of your agent's neck. If this is airborne, we're gonna have to lockdown the whole building; nobody in or out."

"C'mon, let's have Duck get started on testing everybody who came in contact with our dead sailor." The two seniors walked out, trying to leave the blood stain – and the obvious fear – in the room behind them.

…

Thirteen sat up in her bed, the heart monitor beeping rhythmically as her heart beat. She perked up a bit when she saw Kutner sidle in.

"Hey, Kutner. Wondered when House would send someone to see me." She smiled as he came up next to her.

"Yeah, well, I'm not alone." McGee cautiously stepped into the room, skirting the walls as he made his way over to the chair near her bed.

"Dr. Hadley." He greeted her nervously. She smiled a bit, nodding to him as he sat down.

"Agent McGee… I can't apologize enough. I mean, I don't even remember biting you." He shifted uncomfortably in his chair, nervously scratching at his bandaged neck.

"Well, wh-what's the last thing you do remember?"

"Well, we were in that one room, the, uh…"

"MTAC?" He offered helpfully. She smiled bigger, nodding slightly as he smiled back.

"That's right. We were looking at the security tapes, I mentioned being bored, we kissed-"

"Wait, you remember _kissing_ him but not _biting_ him?" Kutner cut in.

"That's what I said. I felt a sudden headache, my ears started ringing, and then… nothing, until I woke up in this bed about an hour ago."

"Well, then you bit me, tried to… w-well, tried to, um…" McGee stumbled for words.

"I… tried to what?" The brunette's eyebrows furrowed with worry.

"He's trying to say that you tried to have sex with him, but before you could get to it, you passed out and started bleeding from your ears." Kutner added. The young woman lowered her head a bit, almost smirking to herself as the two young men stared at each other in confusion.

"Oh. Is that all? I thought you were going to say I tried to kill you." Surprisingly, McGee was the first to recover.

"Wait, you don't care about-"

"Something not _medically_ relevant, no. I… it seems whatever I had, or _have_, diminishes my… inhibitions." She smiled slightly, and if either of her two interrogators bothered to look at her more closely, they'd have seen a slight blush on her cheeks.

"So, you're saying you… what? You find me attractive?" McGee asked in disbelief.

"Do you really find that so hard to believe, Agent McGee?"

"Yes, actually; I find it impossible to believe."

"Well, let's just say I'm… less picky than most people. You're nice, you're polite, you're good-looking, and, of course, you're available."

"How do you know that?"

"Well, the lack of a ring is a good start."

"That doesn't mean anything! Maybe I have someone and I'm just not married!"

"C'mon, McGee; we both know you were into me from the start. You just didn't like the setting we were in."

"Oh, Tony's just gonna love _this_; like I don't get enough crap from him already."

"Kutner, would you step out for a minute?" Her colleague eyed her suspiciously.

"Why?

"Because I plan to have sex with Agent McGee in my hospital bed." She answered sarcastically. McGee had been writing something on his notepad up until this point; when he heard what she said, he sat straight up in his chair, blushing heavily. "It's because none of this is relevant and House doesn't need another reason to go off subject during the differential."

"I'm not leaving you two alone so you can pass out again and have nobody to see the signs of whatever this is."

"You think I'm going to have another episode of this thing in the next four minutes?" Finally, with a heavy sigh, Kutner made his way to the door.

"Alright, whatever; just don't do anything stupid." He shut the door behind him, walking to the nurses' station a few feet away.

"Why did you say that!? Like I wasn't embarrassed enough!" McGee said defensively, making her roll her eyes.

"I know, McGee. That's why I asked him to leave. I thought I'd spare you more humiliation at the hands of my brutal honesty." She smiled a little, sitting up a little more in her bed.

"I'm surprised you didn't offer to have sex with _him_, too! Maybe at the same time!"

"That's ridiculous, McGee. There's not enough room for a threesome in this bed." His expression soured into an angry glare.

"C'mon, you're sick! You're supposed to be acting like a sick patient, not a-a sex addict trying to get another fix! What's the matter with you!?"

"Nothing! I'm just not going to restrict my word choice just because you're a prude. There's nothing wrong with talking about sex, McGee. Besides, it really _isn't_ relevant to what happened. I felt like jumping you the moment we first met." McGee sputtered angrily, unable to form any actual words.

"Do you know what this means!? Now I have to listen to Tony teasing me over this for the next decade! Like I don't have enough problems!"

"Well, sex is great for stress relief." Thirteen stated matter-of-factly. The tech savvy agent again found himself unable to use real words, this time just staring angrily at her as she smiled slyly.

"Oh, relax, McGee. Look, when I get out of here, we can argue about this until we're both red in the face. Right now, get back to your day job and help House find out what's wrong with me." Tim shook his head in disbelief, quickly grabbing his gear and making for the door.

"When you get out of this hospital, I think you need to get some serious help!" He closed the door quickly as he left.

"I'll call _you_, then!" She called after him, chuckling a bit as she bit her lip slightly. Suddenly, the realization of what just happened hit her, and she frowned.

"Wow. I really need to get out of here. I'm starting to go stir crazy."


	6. Access Denied

As Gibbs and House strode into Abigail Sciuto's laboratory, they were greeted to her usual rock/punk music. Frustrated by her lack of success, she banged her head against the monitor, grunting in anger as she started shaking it.

"Oh, c'mon! I know you can do this, girl! Just help me out here!"

"Talk to me, Abbs."

"Gibbs, this is really weird!"

"Yeah, tell me about it."

"No, I mean, I can't seem to find this guy anywhere." The Goth held up a Petri dish filled with some kind of orange powder. The dish's lid was held shut with pink tape, on which the label "really, really bad" had been written with a black marker.

"Is that what Ducky thinks killed Lieutenant Peterson?"

"I still have no idea what it is, but his lungs were full of the stuff, so… yeah, I'd say that's probably what did him in."

"So, I'm guessing it's not gonna be in a file labeled '100,000 mysterious chemicals the government uses to kill people'?" House finally spoke, his wary, observant look diminishing as he watched the lab tech dance around in front of he and Gibbs. She only then realized Gibbs wasn't alone, rearing back a little as House leaned over her desk to look in the dish.

"Oh, h-hi. Wh-who are you?"

"Greg House, the original American Badass." Apparently not getting the Undertaker reference, Abby just blinked in confusion.

"What?"

"That was a joke. I do that sometimes, along with sarcasm, lying, and ignoring other people's problems. It's part of the whole 'don't give a crap' outlook on life I have."

"O-kay." Abby shrank back a bit more, still unsure of how to respond to him.

"At the risk of sounding like a broken record… I'm guessing it's not gonna be in a file labeled '100,000 mysterious chemicals the government uses to kill people'?"

"W-well, I doubt it. I mean, even if this is a manmade substance, it's still gonna show up somewhere."

"In other words, you've got nothing?"

"Hey! I didn't say I can't find out what this is! It's just gonna take time!"

"Right. I'm sure Thirteen will appreciate knowing what's killing her, unless we have to tell her in a séance."

"Who's Thirteen?"

"One of my employees. Sweet girl; likes to party a little less than a young woman should, but what're you gonna do? They can't all be smart _and_ fun."

"What kind of woman lets herself be called 'Thirteen'?"

"The generally private, 'I don't want to get to know my coworkers in case they screw up and I have to distance myself' kind. Happens more with doctors than you'd think."

"Guys. Getting a little off-topic." Gibbs finally cut in, seeming to perhaps enjoy watching the exchange between the two.

"Right. Anyway, Dr. Badass, I'm running a chemical analysis on it and Major Mass Spec should be pinging me any second now."

"Major what?"

"Oh, Major Mass Spec." She walked over to the humming machine, whose lights blinked periodically as it did its job. "My GCMS; gas chromatgra-"

"I know what it stands for; I've just never met anybody who _named_ one."

"Oh." Gibbs rolled his eyes, getting annoyed at the lack of progress _and_ the pair's responses to each other. Walking over to House, he pulled the diagnostician aside.

"Hey!"

"What?"

"Does it help your process to be an ass, or are you just that good at it that you can't stop?"

"What if I said both?" He said innocently. His answer was an annoyed glare. House then turned his attention to Abby, who seemed to still be reeling from their verbal fencing match.

"Look, if it's not manmade and it's not natural, where'd the hell it come from? Another planet?"

"I-I don't know! I-" Just then, Abby's finicky baby beeped and cranked out its report.

"About time." Abby sighed in relief. House was the first to grab it from the output tray, reading the paperwork as he furrowed his brow in thought.

"Okay, according to this… I need an interpreter." He handed it to Abby, who eyed him suspiciously. When she raised an eyebrow as if to say _"How do I know you're not messing with me?"_, he rolled his eyes and sighed.

"Yes, I knew it would spit out something I couldn't read, so I arranged to be somewhere where someone I've never met could tell me what it says. Aren't I clever?" He said sarcastically, thrusting the report into her chin. She took it hesitantly, going over what it said in her mind.

"Okay, I need to change my dish label."

"Why, Abbs?" Gibbs came over to look at the printout. On the bottom of the page was, the machine had printed "MATCH FOUND: Agent X-89." Below this was printed "FURTHER INFORMATION CLASSIFIED TOP SECRET".

"Abbs, bring it up on the screen." She typed in the name of their mystery chemical, but in seconds the resulting answer was "ACCESS RESTRICTED". When she typed in her password to get around the lockout and access the top secret information, the answer came back immediately; "DOD PATENT 984520943: RK-14 AIRBORNE PROTOTYPE OVERVIEW CLASSIFIED; ACCESS DENIED". As the three of them stared at the screen, they slowly turned to look at each other.

"I've never heard of this before, Abbs."

"Join the club." House retorted. "I guess we'll have to pay the Men In Black a visit." As Gibbs turned to stare at him, he smiled slightly.

"Let me check with someone else first."

…

Ziva reclined back in her chair, mashing her fingers on the keyboard in anger. Tony looked up from his own computer, watching as the Mossad officer began pounding her fist into it instead.

"Careful, Ziva. The IT guys are gonna lose it if you break another keyboard."

"Tony… as far as I can tell, Lieutenant Peterson, _this_ Lieutenant Peterson, doesn't exist anywhere!"

"So the guy's using an alias. Nothing's comin' up in the database for the name other than the Peterson who died 70 years ago, so he obviously hasn't been using it for long." Suddenly, their computers were seized by a message; "ACCESS DENIED; AUTHORIZATION LEVEL INADEQUATE".

"What the hell is this? What'd you do now, Ziva?"

"Calm down, Tony; it's not Ziva's fault." Director Sheppard calmly strode up to his desk, making him jump back a little with her sudden appearance.

"Director Sheppard. What a way to treat your subordinates." He joked lamely.

"Are we doing something wrong, Director? Because _this_-" She turned her screen around to face the woman in question, showing her the message. "-is ridiculous."

"No, Ziva. It seems your investigation had taken an unexpected turn." She answered reasonably.

"Director?" Gibbs strode up behind her, Abby and House in trail.

"Gibbs, it seems you've upset some people in the DOD by digging into our dead sailor's past."

"What?"

"I just got a call from SECNAV. He wants to meet with us about why he's shutting down our investigation into Lieutenant Peterson." They all took a moment to recompose themselves, except for Gibbs, who simply stared at her defiantly.

"You know this is about, Jen?"

"Get the rest of your team together, Jethro, and meet in MTAC in 15 minutes." She quickly made her way out, heading back up to her office as the others stared uselessly at her. Just then, McGee and Kutner came out of the elevator.

"That's the last time I let you drive. It felt like I could have gotten here faster if I got out and walked."

"Yeah, well, that's what happens when you have a duty as a federal agent not to go 100 miles an hour on the wrong side of the road."

"Hey, my driving's better than yours."

"Not according to the cop who pulled us over." McGee came over to sit at his desk as the others watched him.

"Sorry we're late, boss. It… couldn't be helped." When he and Kutner saw that no one was talking, they both looked around. Kutner was the first to speak.

"Okay, what'd we miss?"


	7. Company

No longer fearing for her life simply giving out, the doctors had moved Thirteen to the Isolation Ward. The young brunette nervously paced in her hospital room as she pondered her situation; like a battleship crippled by enemy gunfire, she was now out of the battle. As the realization that she could be useful set in, she grabbed her cell phone and started dialing. After six rings, an annoyed House answered on the other end.

"Thirteen… how's it going? Enjoying the scenery?" He joked lightly, whispering into his phone as she raised an eyebrow.

"Why're you whispering?"

"_Because_ I'm in a meeting, one that apparently doesn't allow cell phone use." He looked over at the staring faces around the conference table. "Seriously, what is this, 1949? Why should it surprise you that as a doctor, I'd leave it on in here?"

"Because, you were told to turn it off?" McGee offered hesitantly.

"Big deal; I do lots of stuff I'm told not to."

"We _saw_ you turn it off, House!" Cuddy cut in. "Maybe if we weren't in the middle of-"

"Hey! There's no need to be rude while I'm on the phone!" The brunette on the other end reared back from her phone, unprepared to have him shout into the microphone on his.

"House, if you're busy, I can call back."

"No; I always like hearing from you. Tell me, what's the decor in Isolation like?" For a moment, there was silence, as she looked around. She summed it up with one word.

"Drab."

"Pity. Guess it'll need sprucing up if you have to stay there. Hang on, I'll put you on speaker." He did so, his phone beeping as the speakerphone was turned on.

"Okay, now, is there something you'd like to share with our living patient? Or should I said, 'our not-dead-yet patient'?"

"Wait, what?" There was a shrill note of alarm in her voice.

"Dr. Hadley, you've been exposed to a very powerful chemical weapon. It is apparently under development by the DOD for use by the CIA; somehow, our dead sailor friend got hold of it." Ducky told her quite frankly, seeing no need to beat around the bush.

"Well… is there anything that can be done about it, or am I just gonna… kick the bucket like our patient?" She was on the verge of crying as she sniffled into the phone.

"We don't know yet. We're still trying to get the government to tell us what this crap's actually made of." Kutner added. For a moment, silence from her end.

"Is there any chance you guys can figure it out without their help?" Still reeling from her problem, her voice broke slightly.

"Maybe, but it's gonna take time no matter what we do. Since we can't treat you 'til we know what this is, you're just gonna have to sit tight." Taub leaned in a little so he wouldn't have to shout across the table.

"Great. Uh, could somebody get me a change of clothes? I'm starting to get sick of this outfit." She laughed nervously.

"I'll do it." Foreman started getting up.

"No, I… I kinda need some company too, Foreman. It's gonna be a little hard to do a differential from Isolation."

"I'll go." McGee hesitantly stood.

"Was that Agent McGee who just volunteered?" She sounded very surprised, with a hint of glee mixed in.

"Well, yes. You, uh… I mean, I can do my job from pretty much anywhere, so…"

"Thanks, McGee. Have House text your number and I'll send you the address."

"Why not just give your address to your boss so he can tell me?"

"She's afraid I'll get caught in the sex swing." House rudely joked, causing McGee to blush noticeably.

"House, that's not funny." Cuddy scolded him sternly.

"No, but it'd be awesome to watch, wouldn't it? A gimp stuck in a sex swing; people would pay big money to see _that_." He sighed after seeing their angry glares. "Fine, ruin my fun; I'm just trying to avoid getting bummed by all these bad vibes."

"House, you don't need to know where I live to mock me; you can do that anywhere." She sternly told him over the phone, a slightly ounce of worry noticeable in her softening voice. When she spoke to McGee, however, her voice was practically a purr, her obvious attraction to him no longer hidden, even though they couldn't see her smiling wickedly in her isolation room.

"McGee, when you go, make sure you bring something for me to wear _under_ my outfit; my other things were all incinerated."

"S-Sure, Dr. Hadley; I'll get right on that." As he blushed deeper and they all turned to stare at him curiously, she giggled and cooed into the phone, seeming to forget she was on speaker as her voice became heavy and seductive.

"Don't keep me waiting, Tim. We have a lot to talk about." She gasped into the phone as House spoke to her.

"Y'know, this is great. I can't wait to hear the after action report on that ramming attack." His naval parlance notwithstanding, his joke only made the pair feel more embarrassed; by now, they could practically _hear_ Thirteen and McGee blushing. Tony was the first one to say anything, however.

"Okay, that's awkward. You might want to get going, McBoytoy." He squealed as Gibbs slapped the back of his head.

"Tony, you just volunteered to help Dr. House talk to the Feds."

"I did?"

"Yeah. Go."

"Going to talk to the Feds, Boss." He stood up as McGee hurried out the door, trying his best to make it to the elevator before DiNozzo could catch up to him. He didn't make it. As House struggled to keep pace, he sighed, swore under his breath, and made for another elevator.

"So, McGee, going to that sexy doctor's house, huh?"

"Tony, don't start with me, okay?"

"C'mon, you got a perky young doctor with the hots for you, and you're telling me you're not interested; are you blind, McGoo?"

"Shouldn't we wait for Dr. House?" The elevator suddenly closed on them before beginning its journey down. Both of them turned to watch as the door alarm dinged and the doors closed.

"Yeah, I'm sure he'll be fine. Listen, McHorny, I saw the look on your face when she told you about her underwear. You're into her, aren't you?"

"No, Tony, I'm not!"

"Methinks you protest too much, McLiar."

"Tony, she's sick! We're trying to keep her from dying! Even if I _was_ interested, you think I might wanna wait 'til she's better?"

"I dunna, Tim. You think that back fat's gonna work itself off, McLove Handles?"

"Tony, I told you; that was just a joke! I wasn't serious!"

"Whatever you say, Timid Tim. I say you should see where this goes. Besides, it's not like you've got crowds of women fawning over you."

"Yeah, you're not doing so hot either, Tony." DiNozzo turned to stare at the technophile.

"What's that supposed to mean, Timmy? You think my love life been a little barren?"

"'Been a little barren'? Yeah, since that 5-foot punk rocker kneed you in the family jewels a couple months ago."

"Hey! That is a tender area, McGee! As a man, I think, you should know that!"

"What'd you mean by 'I think'!?"

"Let's say there's some room for doubt, McFeminine."

"Hey, I don't tell people about your disgusting athlete's foot; why do you tell everybody I use body lotion because of my dry skin!?"

"Because real men don't _need_ body lotion, Tim; they put up with it 'til the air gets moist again!" As the elevator opened, they turned to see House staring at them angrily, one hand clutching his left leg tenderly.

"Have a nice little ride, did we? I mean, I had to take the stairs and fell almost three floors, but I'm sure it was _hell_ for you two in there!" He limped (more than usual) his way over to the row of parked Dodge Chargers in the garage.

"C'mon, you idiots! We don't have all day for this field trip!" Tony sighed as McGee smiled at him innocently; his company would be much better than Tony's, no matter what they ended up talking about.


	8. Chemical Agent

Author's note: This is a long one… sorry about that.

"So, how long you worked at that hospital?"

"Just shut up and drive. I wanna get this over with."

"Look, you think I like this any more than you do, Broody?"

"Watch the damn road, Magellan, and stop trying to spark a conversation; you're boring the hell out of me."

"Hey, at least I'm trying to avoid the awkward silence that seems to just.. y'know, reach out and grab people! How hard was it for you to get that down pat!?"

"Agent DiNozzo, I have no interest in talking to any moron who thinks an $18 suit impresses people into cooperating with them. You happen to be one of them."

"Well, that's just rude, and for the record, this suit's about $150."

"Uh-huh; it just _looks_ like you got it at the Salvation Army." This exchange had gone on, almost unbroken, for about an hour; neither one was in a good mood, and it showed.

"There! Finally, we're here! Thanks for getting us lost with that shortcut, Dr. Copernicus!"

"Don't blame me for that; I didn't _make_ you follow my advice." As they both got out, the slate grey building towered over the landscape; it must have been 30 stories tall, with only a handful of windows along the top floors. They made their way to the door, only to be greeted by two gun-wielding men in suits.

"Gentleman, this area's restricted. You're gonna have to leave. _Now_." The first agent, a tall African-American holding a shotgun, motioned for them to go back to their car.

"Relax, Quick Draw. We're here for-"

"It doesn't matter who or what you're here for. You're not authorized to be on the premises." The shotgun-wielding agent persisted. House, obviously unimpressed with their display of power, came very close to them, shoving his cane into the gravel as he stopped while staring at them with annoyance.

"Okay, here's how this is gonna go down; you're going to let us through, because you've been told we're coming to see someone more important than both of you put together. Otherwise, my friend is going to get on the phone, call his boss - who'll call the Secretary of the Navy - and by the end of the day, you're gonna be guarding some unnamed warehouse in northern Alaska." Exchanging a look, the two agents let them pass without another word. DiNozzo turned toward the tall doctor slightly.

"Nice bluff."

"I wasn't bluffing…" He stated. "Was I?" As Tony stood dumbfounded, House made his way inside, smiling slightly as he went through the heavy steel door.

…

"Hey, McGee, you made it." Thirteen cooed in delight as the nervous young man entered her isolation chamber, adorned with a protective suit - covering everything but his head - to avoid exposure to the agent that was affecting her; at least, the _chemical_ agent that was affecting her.

"Y-yeah, I didn't quite know what to bring, so I just tried to match stuff by color." He smiled shyly, her sweating body soaking the one-piece suit she'd been wearing after they destroyed her clothes.

"It's so damn hot in here, McGee! I hope you brought plenty of short sleeves!" She unzipped her coveralls, almost not noticing that McGee turned away with embarrassment.

"Damn!" She pressed a button on the wall to activate the intercom. "Guys, my fever's spiking again!" She rocked back on her feet, a little woozy as her company reflexively caught her before she could fall very far.

"McGee, you might wanna stay back. I don't feel so good." She retched a little, trying to turn her head so she wouldn't throw up on him. As it happened, nothing came out, that time.

"You okay? They… they making you comfortable?"

"Well, the company's improved."

"The … what?" He stuttered a little.

"Well, I've basically been stared at like a zoo animal for the past three hours, McGee. No one comes in here unless they have to." Finally, one of the nurses came in.

"Agent McGee, if you could help her to the bed?" He nodded.

"I _knew_ you just wanted to get me in bed." She teased.

"C'mon, not now."

"Why not, McGee? If I don't make it-"

"_Don't_ talk like that, okay? You're not gonna spend the rest of your life in this room!"

"McGee-"

"No, I don't wanna hear it! You're gonna get out of here, then you're gonna go home, drink something strong, and forget this ever happened. Okay!?" He was adamant, as if he was trying to convince himself more than her.

"McGee, that's very sweet of you to try to cheer me up, but… let's be realistic. I might not be _here_, but odds are, if they don't find a way to stop this, I'm only gonna leave in a body bag." She winced a little as the nurse pulled out the IV again, nodding to the young doctor as she laid slowly sat back up.

"I don't wanna here this!"

"McGee-!"

"No, not one more word about death or I… I'll leave!" He threatened childishly. She sighed, her thin lips slowly curling into an evil grin; she decided to tease the shy nerd until she got what she really wanted from him being there. She turned on her side to stare at him as he began setting up his laptop and other equipment, conveniently on the other side of the room.

"Okay, McGee, we can talk about something else. Tell me, did you like looking through all my panties, Mr. Federal Agent? Did it give you any ideas?" By now, she'd recovered from her very high fever, and she was slowly standing as he blushed heavily.

"Wha-"

"Don't worry, McGee, I won't tell anyone. It's fine; I get a lot of men excited when I wear some of it." As she slowly made her way over to him, swaying her hips as she went, she realized she was half-naked, the hospital gown under her coveralls having been removed to make her more comfortable; her coveralls themselves had fallen around her ankles, and as she smiled slyly, she kicked them off, leaving her chest completely bare. She moaned teasingly as he did his best not to stare at her sweat-covered breasts, which she half hid with one arm.

"McGee, would you mind handing me something to cover these up with? Now that the fever's passed, they're getting a little cold." She cooed lightly as he nervously searched through the suitcase he'd brought, handing her a lacey purple bra.

"Wha- will this work?" He asked her shyly, not even looked at it as she gently took it from his hand.

"That'll do nicely, Tim. You don't mind if I call you 'Tim', do you?"

"W-well, it _is_ my name, so…" He set the bag down and turned completely the other way, trying to give her some privacy as he closed the blinds that shielded the large viewing window.

"Ooh, good idea, Tim. They'll only hear us now." She teased him mercilessly, giggling as she came up behind him and pressed herself against his back.

"D-Dr. Hadley, I…"

"My name is Remy, Tim. Call me 'Remy'… please?" She sighed lightly as he tried to regain his professionalism.

"O-okay… Remy." He still wouldn't face her, so she pulled on his arm and forced him to turn around. Thankfully, she'd covered her bosom with the bra, although to say it was really covered would be pushing it.

"Wow, we're so _serious_ today, Tim. You upset because you volunteered to babysit a sick _and_ horny doctor?" His eyes widened in shock. He stuttered uselessly, blushing so deeply that Thirteen wondered if there was any blood left anywhere else in his body.

"I'm not gonna just jump you, Tim, no matter how much I'd love to. Since this whole thing started, I've been having problems… controlling myself." She brushed her hand against his crotch as he gasped.

"Like I said, this chemical's messing with my brain chemistry; they told me to expect the …arousal to slacken as this thing got worse." She got so close to the nervous agent that he was pressed back against the wall, trying her best to give him a warm smile instead of a wicked smirk.

"R-Remy, I'm not r-really comfortable with this…"

"Oh, I know, Tim… but I can't help myself. If I make it out of this alive, you're getting a house call from me." She tried to kiss him, only to gasp in panic and pull back at the last moment.

"Tim, I'm so sorry! I almost kissed you!" He had no words to respond with. "I don't know if this can spread, and I almost… Tim, I'd better get a little distance between us." She backed up, her companion doing his best to remain professional, despite his obvious arousal.

"Well, that could've been really bad. I've gotta get some kind of treatment soon, or I'm gonna completely lose it."

"Should I come back, or…?"

"No, Tim. I just… need somebody strong-willed to talk to, and the fact is, you're the only company I can expect for the next… well, until I die. Or get cured, whichever comes first."

"O-Okay. Is there something specific you wanted to do, or…" He realized that she was grinning evilly as he looked up, the words he just spoke making him blush as she heard the unintended double meaning.

"Ooh, Tim, that was wicked of you, teasing me like that. Glad to know that you're more comfortable being here now." She grinned wider, if that was possible, and sat on the edge of her bed. "But, no, I didn't have something specific; I just… want someone to talk to. Someone who, despite being a guy, can keep himself in check when I get… randy like I did earlier."

"What do you mean, 'randy'? I thought you said what this did was lower your inhibitions, not make you lie."

"No, Tim, I meant… I mean, yes, I want to explore something with you, but… this chemical is making it hard to concentrate on anything. Hormones are pumping through my body right now; Tim, if we had sex, my heart would probably explode."

"I doubt that." He joked almost offhandedly.

"Don't sell yourself short, Tim, but that's not what I meant. My pulse and heart rate are really high. I have a little trouble breathing if I move too much or too quickly. I think my blood sugar's bottoming out, too, because my hands developed a slight tremor about an hour ago. I'm not in any physical condition right now to go sack hopping. Besides, the bed's a little too small for us both to fit, so even I wanted to, it just wouldn't work here." Her statement was very well reasoned, if odd and rather erotic, and McGee found himself nodding in understanding.

"So, as much as you'd want to, you couldn't."

"Oh, I _could_. I'd just die afterward, and no offence, but _nobody_ is worth that." She blinked and sighed a little.

"Oh."

"So, for now, 'til I can walk without feeling like I'm climbing Everest, we'll just sit and chat, okay?"

"Sure… as long as you stay over there and don't try to bite or grab me again, we'll be just fine." He answered sarcastically.

"Ooh, a little joke for me, Tim? I'm flattered." She teased, smiling a little as he turned to face her.

"Don't worry, McGee, I won't bother you too much… I hope. As long as you keep your hands to yourself, I think I'll be just fine with you here."

…

"So, gentleman, you're here for the X-89 briefing, right?" A young blonde woman in an expensive suit greeted House and Tony as they sat waiting in an outside hallway.

"It'd be nice if someone told us what we're… dealing with." House told her as he not-so-subtly looked her up and down; her large breasts stood out from her outfit, and as both men did their best to ignore the straining garment, she smiled to them.

"Don't worry, guys; they're not real." She reached into her shirt, pulling out a contraption that looked a little like a corset.

"Inside each cup is a pocket filled with explosives. An agent can slip in, plant them, and leave, with no one the wiser." She pulled out the round charges, each one almost as big as her whole hand.

"Cool. That's be great for the fireworks _after_ the bang." House glared at Tony as he cleared his throat somewhat pointedly.

"Look, that's really great, but we're not here to look at exploding ta-tas; we're here because someone's gonna die if we don't get a handle on this... X-89 thing." She ushered them into her office.

"Right. Well, gentleman, basically, X-89 is a prototype compound originally designed to destroy the part of the body that controls hormone production. The original idea was to produce a substance that would require a person to receive injections of certain natural enzymes in order to survive; in so doing, they would be completely dependent on whoever was administering the doses." House was the first to say anything.

"Okay, so… if it somehow got loose, and somebody doesn't start receiving these injections…"

"It would kill whoever came in contact with it in a matter of hours."

"Not what we wanted to hear." Tony chipped in.

"How long would it take to develop a counteragent; something we could introduce to stop it from spreading, or-"

"I'm afraid you've been misinformed, gentleman; the project researching X-89 was shut down 8 years ago, when it was deeming a failure."

"Okay, so there's no way it could be used by anybody to kill someone _now_, right?" Tony asked worriedly, afraid he already knew the answer.

"Officially, no." Was her expected answer.

"Unofficially?" House queried. She leaned closer and whispered to them.

"We know a number of unauthorized shipments of the original compound were made a few hours after the project was shut down. The men and women in this building spend 24 hours a day trying to find where they went, but it's like they disappeared in a puff of smoke."

"So, someone _other than us_ has this stuff, and you guys felt there was no need to _tell_ anybody?" Tony challenged.

"You don't understand, Agent DiNozzo. This stuff was not supposed to be made in the first place; no order authorizing its production was ever issued, no facilities set up for its large-scale distribution to the field units. Someone grabbed the original research batch and stole it within _hours_ of its cancellation; that suggests they _knew_ it wasn't going to be used. Whoever has this stuff now, they either work for us, or they used to." She looked up as someone walked by the door behind them. After they'd passed by, she continued. "You guys _have_ to understand; we've been looking for this poison for years, and never found a trace. Suddenly, you guys show up demanding answers we can't give, and now, we have to redouble our efforts to find something that's apparently invisible and untraceable."

"So, what are you saying? You can't just give us an antidote?" House asked with an air of annoyance.

"No, we can. I took the liberty of having a small batch made when we heard about your little problem in Virginia; it's on its way to NCIS headquarters as we speak. As soon as it arrives, you can take it several doses with you to the hospital."

"'Several'? Right now, we only need one." House wearily told her.

"I'm afraid it's not that simple. If we're right, and you've found someone who was working with these maniacs, then you're going to need more than enough for the one person who's sick right now."

"How much more we talkin' about?"

"We've estimated that there's enough compound in the research batch to kill several million people. If and when you catch these guys, you'd better be ready for them to use it." The two men turned to look at each other, neither wanting to say what they were both thinking. After exchanging a handshake with the young woman, they made their way back outside, under escort from the agents they'd met earlier. As they made their way over to their car, Tony dialed his phone.

"Yeah, Boss, got some info on our mystery toxin; McGee and Abby'll have analyze it, 'cause I can't make heads or tails of this crap." He laughed nervously. House pounded on the car roof, nearly scaring DiNozzo to death.

"C'mon! Thirteen's gonna need to hear how screwed she is if that antidote doesn't get there in time!"

…

"I've always wanted a nice, big set of implants." Thirteen stated suddenly. McGee, who was leaning over his laptop as he concentrated on delving through the records sent over by Tony and House, suddenly shot up in his seat.

"What!?"

"C'mon, Tim, what do you think; Es or Fs?" She smiled to him innocently, obviously teasing him as she showed him a porn magazine.

"Where the hell did you even get that from!?" Tim asked her as he came over to take it from her; why he wanted to do that was beyond him, but he was going to do it anyway.

"The magazine? I had it brought by one of the nurses." She told him, shrugging her shoulders a little as he reached for it.

"You got a nurse to give you a dirty magazine? Why do I not believe _that_?"

"'Cause you're cynical and trying to hide it?" He grabbed it and tried to pull it out of her strong grasp, nearly tearing the pages as she refused to let go.

"C'mon, you don't need anything giving you more ideas!"

"Then let go; it'll help pass the time without getting interested in _you_!"

"No! C'mon, give it!" He finally pulled it free, the crumpled porno held over his head as she reached for it.

"C'mon, Tim, either give me the magazine back or give me something else that'll make me forget all about it." She came close to his face, sitting on her knees on the bed as he blushed. She succeeded in retrieving her prize, laughing triumphantly as he look at her with bewilderment.

"Ha! I win!" She giggled to herself as she rocked back and resumed her reading.

"Dr. Hadley, you'll want to hear this." The grey-haired doctor treating her pressed the intercom button as he stood outside the airlock leading into the room.

"What is it?" She sat up, looking straight at him as McGee joined her.

"I'm afraid we have some bad news; your kidney function has been slowly but steadily dropping over the last several hours. It'll start showing soon, and when it does, as far as we can tell based on enzyme levels, your liver will probably go next." She slowly turned to stare at the wide-eyed McGee, a look of sheer terror etched on her face.


	9. Out Of Here

As McGee opened the inner door to the isolation chamber, he suddenly found himself assaulted by a crippling wave of rock music.

"What the hell is that noise!?" He placed his hands over his ears, unable to hear himself think as the guitar riff dug into his eardrums.

"Just a little mood music, Tim!" Thirteen shouted over the radio; McGee was now deeply regretting that he gave in and grabbed it for her.

"What kind of idiot plays heavy metal at full volume in a room like this!? Are you _trying _to go deaf!?" He managed to wrangle her away from it and turn it down.

"Just having some fun before… well, I'm just enjoying my time in here." She smiled sweetly, her companion glaring at her as her grin turned wolfish.

"Yeah, well, blasting 'Halestorm', 'Theory of A Deadman', and 'Shinedown' until your ears bleed is probably not the best way to enjoy being here." He sighed wearily, slamming the CD cases back down on the table.

"Oh, c'mon, Tim, I'm stuck in a giant Plexiglas box dying slowly! What the hell am I supposed to do to entertain myself!?" She flared her eyes in rage, panting in anger as she glared at him cruelly. His expression softened, giving her a gentle, comforting smile.

"It's gonna be okay. The team's gonna figure this out, and then we can leave this place and move on with our lives, okay?"

"And in the meantime, I'm just supposed to sit here uselessly, twiddling my thumbs? Or… twiddling something else?" She grinned wolfishly, chuckling as he rolled his eyes.

"I'm sure there are _other_ options. Just try to find something that induces less vomiting and headaches than staring into a strobe light." She giggled as she sprawled provocatively on the bed.

"Ooh, that's a _great_ idea, Tim; let's get drunk instead. You got any bourdon? Or absinthe?" She whispered the last word.

"Wha- Absinthe? Why the hell would I have absinthe!? If I wanted to be _that_ drunk, I'd use wood varnish; it'd taste a lot better."

"How would _you_ know what it tastes like?" His cheeks grew dark with an embarrassed blush. Seeing that her "prey" had weakened, she made her way over to him, smiling softly as she gently kissed his cheek.

"Relax, Tim. I'm just teasing you. I think the hormones are finally starting to wear off; now, I can think straight when I'm standing next to you." A certain doctor smacked his cane against the Plexiglas just before Tony could press the intercom button down, scaring the hell out of both of them.

"Hey, is this exhibit open to the public?" House shouted through the clear wall.

"House."

"How's it going, Thirteen? Comfy?" He rolled a chair up to the intercom near the door, almost knocking DiNozzo out of the way as he nearly lost his balance on the backless stool.

"I… it's okay. It's not fresh air and sunshine, but… the company's pretty good." She rolled her eyes. "Or, at least it was until you guys showed up and ruined our fun."

"Right, because you were obviously going to shag him on the linoleum. Give it up; we know your hormones are goin' cuckoo."

"That doesn't mean-"

"Did you ever stop to think why she chose _you_, Agent McGee? She's the kind of girl who likes a challenge; she'll go after the hot girl at the bar just for the thrill of the hunt, so she must think you're worthy of her pursuit. Or her pus-"

"Actually, House, I find Agent McGee to be a great conversationalist."

"Oh, really? I bet McGeek could tell you all about how to program your phone to speak Chinese; that'll really come in handy." DiNozzo chimed in.

"Tony."

"So, c'mon, McFreaky, tell us all about it. Is she still pining for your McLovin?" McGee looked very disturbed by his coworker's crudeness.

"Tony, she's right here!" He gestured with his hands, having to take a moment to collect himself mentally.

"Actually, Agent DiNozzo, Tim and I have already gotten to the shameless teasing stage."

"Nice. I love that stage." Tony chuckled humorlessly.

"So, good news and bad news. Good news; you're going to live. They're on their way with the antidote now, all they have to do is meter out the dosage."

"So, what's the bad news?" McGee queried.

"Apparently, there's a whole hell of a lot of this stuff still out there somewhere, and we get to go find it. Lucky us." Tony answered, sighing softly.

"So, does that mean I can get out of here now!?" Thirteen practically jumped through the wall as she roughly smacked into it, startling DiNozzo and House. House cleared his throat quietly.

"Y-you might wanna wait 'til they actually cure you."

"If I have to break this wall to leave, House, I will. Now get me the hell out of here!"

"Remy, calm down! You're gonna hurt yourself!" McGee found himself pressed up against the wall, the brunette pinning him to it as her face twisted into a snarl. She firmly pressed her body against his, their chests flat against each other as her eyes flared in anger.

"Shut up, Tim! For the past _30 hours_, I have been poked and prodded, stabbed with IVs, shoved in a clear box for people to stare into, and told I was gonna die! I want out of here _now_!" She panted with rage as he stared at her timidly, terrified she was going to rip his head off if he spoke. House ambled in, roughly grabbing her arm and tossing her toward the bed.

"Hey! Knock it off, Thirteen! You wanna leave? Go! Don't take it out on us 'cause you can't follow protocol!"

"What are you-!?"

"Who leans over a dead body with no known cause of death, and doesn't wear a mask!? You didn't notice the rest of us staying back!? You're lucky this isn't Ebola or something! Now quit being stupid and get dressed!" He tossed the suitcase full of her clothes onto the bed next to her.

"House-"

"Thanks to these idiots making me take, and shortly thereafter fall down, the stairs, my leg feels like someone's trying to cut it open with a machete. I've got more than half a bottle of Vicodin running through me and it's not helping, so maybe you're pissed 'cause you thought you were gonna die. At least you're not in any pain!" As she heard her boss berate her, the young woman's fury suddenly surged back. She had calmed marginally as she rethought her condition; now, her mouth twisted into an angry grimace, fire filling her eyes as she roughly shoved House away.

"Hey, don't take that out on me! I didn't make you a crippled, desensitized _asshole_! Maybe next time, try waiting for the fucking elevator to come back, and it won't happen again, will it!?" House's eyes widened in surprise. Tim found the strength to speak as he came a little closer.

"Remy, we're only trying to help…"

"I don't _need_ your help! Now turn around; I need to get dressed." As they all turned around, House somewhat reluctantly, they heard her collapse to the floor. As they turned back to see what happened, they saw her struggle to stand.

"Hey!" Tony got there first, helping her back up as she shook her head in disbelief.

"I don't… I don't know what happened. I turned to open the suitcase and-"

"Thirteen?"

"What, House!?"

"Your arm's twitching." She looked down to see that her arm had, indeed, developed a noticeable tremor.

"What the hell…?"

"Try to lift your arm." She tried to move it, but she found that it wouldn't follow her commands. She strained to lift her arm up, but only succeeded in sending a sharp sting of pain down it. It shot down her legs, nearly knocking her off her feet.

"What's… what's going on!?" She looked ready to cry.

"Don't know… but something tells me you're going be here a while longer."

Author's Note: Don't worry, I haven't forgotten about the rest of the teams. They'll be heavily involved in the chapter after next.


End file.
